The Scented Body
by confused-kendall
Summary: Logan is a warrior, a hero to his people. When his half brother took hold of all his powers, Logan was captured and sent Diare, his enemy nation as a slave. Can Logan survive? How will he deal with his attraction for the Prince? Rating might go up.
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** New story, yep. It's just a snippet but please tell me what you think :) I have a much longer chapter but yeah we'll see!

* * *

They barged in and killed his slave, Lydsay with a quick slice of a sword across her throat, she was a palace slave, untrained and weak. She was not given a chance to obey or resist, or to fight back, her body leaned against the cold, white wall, soundlessly sliding herself on the ground, her pale limbs lying still on the marble floor, with blood slowly spreading out beneath her, staining her soft blond hair.

"Seize him!" said one of the soldiers that scattered into the large room, Logan might have allowed it simply from shock, but he quickly got himself together and grabbed his sword.

With five soldiers dead, the men facing him blinked and held themselves back.

"Who sent you?" asked Logan

"The King." The most muscular one out of them all said.

Logan had to stop himself from lowering his bloody sword, "Father?"

"Caster. Your father is dead." He stated, his hard expression not twitching a bit, "Take him away." With these words the soldiers ran towards Logan.

Fighting came naturally to Logan, being a natural fighter from youth and having relentless practice, he was able to get a hold of these soldiers. But these men who was sent against him knew well, overwhelmed by numbers, Logan could only last so long before he was held down, knees dropped hard on the ground and arms twisted behind his back.

He expected to be killed, with a sword to his throat, but he was wrong, instead of being killed, he was beaten, restrained. "Get him out of there." Said the muscular soldier, wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand.

He was so confused, he could not make sense of what was happening, his mind was still sorting things out when he was thrown into a cell, dark and musty.

"Take me to my brother," he demanded,

"We take no orders from prisoners." The soldier chuckled and slammed the cell shut, the sound echoing through the shallow hallway, "Your brother was the one who gave the order." One of them added emotionlessly.

"You're lying, Caster's no traitor." But they all ignored him and walked away.

Well, at least the chains are unlocked.

In the morning they came for him, he allowed his arms to be lashed behind his back with rough handling. With a hard shove between the shoulders, Logan moved forward and began to walk with the soldiers.

When he realizes where he was being taken, he began to struggle violently, tucking the chains with strain and force.

The room was craved in white marbles, from the ceiling hung a pair of shackles, which made Logan forcefully resisted to be chained against his will, his arms pulled up above his head, but it happened.

These were slave baths.

Logan jerked against the restraints, but they didn't budge. His wrists were already bruised, and on the other side of the room, Logan could see cushions and towels arranged neatly, different shaped colored glass bottles containing variety of oils and scent.

The water was scented, milky and covered with floating rose petals. Logan did not see this coming. He felt a surge deep in his chest, anger, outrage, and a new emotion that sends through his whole body.

One of the men prevented him from moving with a hold from behind. Logan does not plan to move, his clothes were stripped off swiftly, sandals cut from his feet. The burn of humiliation and mortification steams across his cheeks, Logan stood still shackled and bounded. They pushed him towards the bath, moist warmth curling against his abused skin.

After a moment in the bath, Logan turned his head, where the servants gathered, where a figure waited. The figure was familiar.

Angust, the keeper of Royal Slaves. As soon as Logan saw him, he was hit by a wave of anger so powerful that it blurs out his vision. When he came back to himself, he saw the way Angust was considering him. Angust was known for his discerning eye, people believed his judgments and opinions, his perception on everything, but to Logan, he was just a lying and useless _peasant. _His slaves became court darlings, trained to bring pleasure with a strike, or a soft touch of a fingertip.

"You wouldn't dare lay a hand on me," said Logan.

Though he was holding back, Angust replied with a steady tone, "I'm under orders."

"I'll _kill _you." Logan said in a threatening way, eyes filled with nothing but hatred and disgust.

"A-A woman, perhaps." Angust backed up a step and whispered into the ear of one of the servants, who bowed and left the room soundlessly.

Logan was bathed by a female slave, slim and pale as the marble of the bathroom floor. On her knees and naked, she washed his body from the tips of his hair to the tip of his toes. When she was done, Logan shook the tubs of warm water over the back of his head. He looked around for Angust, but he seemed to have disappeared.

The slave poured some scented oil placed neatly on the floor into her palm, rubbing them between both her hands and coating them thoroughly. She began to apply it everywhere on Logan's body, stroking his rough skin with soft hands as her eyes remained on the ground.

"That's good, enough." said a lady standing behind them, known as Camille. The slave jerked back from Logan, standing up and getting dressed instantly.

Logan, obviously aroused, eyed Camille's calm gaze.

"I want to see my brother." Logan said after a moment of silence.

"You have no brother." Camille replied. "You no longer have family, you have no name, rank or position. You have nothing." She looked at Logan coldly without hints of emotion, "By now, you should know that much, at least."

Logan hid is growl, "Do you expect me to submit to this? To be mastered by, who, Angust? I will tear his throat out."

"Yes, you will submit to this. But you won't be serving in this palace."

"Where." Flatly.

Camille turned her gaze at him.

"_What?_" Logan said and he set his jaw. "Why keep me alive? What does this satisfy? Is it-" He bit his lip, suddenly afraid she would misunderstood his words.

"A brother's love? No, you don't know him at all. Death is suppose to torment you forever. Be _clever, _boy." Camille touched his hard jaw with her slender and white fingers, matching her elegant form.

"I do not see why you prefer paler skin," she said, "Your bruises are eye-catching."

* * *

They locked him into the collar and wrist-cuffs, smudging his face roughly with oil, overlapping the ones that were previously applied to him, marking him as a official slave.

Logan thought there was absolutely no greater humiliation than when he was being shoved to the ground in front of Angust. Then looking up, he saw Angust's face, a mixed expression that Logan could not recognize.

Logan's arms were bound behind his back with extra restraints had held him down, restricted his movements, and not even a shamble. Right now he was sprawled on the ground, eyes leveling at Angust's feet. He positioned himself onto his knees with a loud grunt, but the guards behind him pulled the restrains backwards, preventing him from rising further.

"You are a fool. He can't trust you, you did it for a position. You've already done it once. You _foolish _man." Said Logan with flat hatred in his voice.

The blow snapped his head to one side. The brunet ran his tongue over his lip, tasting blood.

"I did not give you permission to speak. You should stop now," said Angust, with his face turning white.

Logan looked up to Angust, grinning lazily, "You hit like shit." He watched as the man took a step back, face features darkening almost immediately.

"_Gag him._" He said, and with that Logan was struggling again with no avail. His jaw was forced opened, and a thick clothed item shoved into his mouth. Logan could make no sound but a muffle, but he glared Angust over the gag with dissenting eyes.

Angust's held it's dark expression, saying, "You don't understand it yet, but you will. Everything people say it _true. _You're worth nothing now," walking outside the bars, he turned.

"You are a _slave._"


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **so you guys liked it and I decided to upload another chapter! :3 Keep in mind that this is indeed dom!Logan and sub!Kendall, I'm so sorry for the ones who thought it was the other way around! (apologies to _magnum55, _I'm sooo sorry to disappoint you!) But you'll get to see Kendall ordering Logan around and stuff. And when I meant I have a long chapter, I meant shorter than the first, ha-ha. Ha. Okay enjoy...

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Over the couple of days, Logan had tried to escape. Only resulted with hundreds of guards surrounding him, taking him away and drugging him before throwing him back to his cell.

It took him a while to accept the fact that he was hundreds of miles from his home. Logan stared himself in horror, he was in Diare, the enemy of his country. The Dirarian people had plenty of good reasons to hate him, Prince Logan of Laskan. Question, why was he still alive?

The sound of footsteps jerked his thoughts away, drawing his attention to the two men in front of him.

"The is the slave that is being presented to the prince?" said the stocky man on the left. The other nodded.

"You say he's dangerous. What is he? A prisoner of war? A criminal? Who?"

The other man shrugged, sighing, "Keep him chained."

"Are you kidding? We can't keep him chained forever." Logan, who was on his knees, could feel the short man's gaze lingering on him. The next words he said were almost admiring "Look at him. Even the prince is going to have his hands full."

It was then Logan noticed something, through his clearing drugged haze, that they did not know the identity of him. They did not know his name, and they did not know the identity of their slaves.

After being restrained and gagged, he submitted to being dragged into a room, familiar to the place where they held his previous bathing session.

There were sudden voices and footsteps approaching to Logan's direction. _The prince's viewing. _Logan knew nothing about the prince, except that he was younger of two sons, and that his brothers are dead. Logan knew that well.

A young man with a startlingly pretty face, back in Lastkan, it was known as the kind of face that would have earned a large amount of fortune on the slave-block. Logan's attention caught and held. The young man had dirty blonde hair, green eyes and fair skin, and unlike other courtiers, he wore no jewelry, no rings on his fingers and not even anything around his neck.

As he walked to Logan, Logan saw that the expression he was wearing, smugness and unpleasant. He knew the type, self-absorbed and only lived with his own care. Spoilt.

"I hear the King of Laskan has sent me a gift," said Kendall, the prince of Diare.

*boop*

"An Laskian groveling on its knees before me, how fitting."

Camille saw a muscle tighten in the slave's jaw, cheeks burning over the oil slightly, but he kept his head bowed and stayed silent.

"He's a pleasure slave, but he is not trained. Angust suggested that you might like to break him at your leisure."

Logan shifted his eyes, observing the floor and how it shines through the bright light. H_ow nice of Angust, _he thought.

"I'm not desperate enough that I need to soil myself with filth," said Kendall, eyes wandering around the slave on its knees.

"Yes, your Highness."

"Break him on the cross. Discharge yourselves, I will be there in a moment."

"Yes, your Highness."

Then Kendall had stopped, his face turning whiter than his pale skin, as if in a reaction to a slap, or an insult. But that expression had changed quickly. The prince, as people told, was hard to read.

Logan watched the handler unlocking the first of his shackles. He would be taken to the cross, it was for the best.

"Wait," said Kendall.

The handler nodded, and stood up with his hands behind.

Kendall came forwards in front of the kneeling slave, gazing down at him with green unreadable eyes and spoke with a steady tone.

"I want to speak to him, remove the thing inside his mouth."

"But your Highness, if I might suggest-" began Angust, who was stepping forward.

"Do it."

Angust stopped in his tracks and nodded hesitatingly to the handler, who did as he had been ordered.

"What's your name?" asked Kendall, not quite pleasantly.

No reaction.

"Perhaps we should just take him to the cross," suggested Angust.

The young man repeated the question again, this time in the language of Diare.

Logan raised his head slowly, _that did it_. He delivered Kendall one of the most insolent looks Angust had ever seen, which made his eyes widen with surprise. "I speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart." The handler pushed the slave's face right down to the floor, his grin failed to hide.

"The King of Laskan says if it pleases you, call him Logan." Said he, before the man behind Kendall could stop him.

This time the blonde haired prince's expression did not change.  
I heard that the King of Laskan may marry his mistress, Lady Camille. Is that true?" he asked Angust without taking his eyes off the slave, who was also staring up at him.

"There is no official announcement, but it might be, yes."

"So the country will be ruled by a bastard and a whore," said Kendall, "How appropriate.

Angust saw Logan react, and Kendall seemed to have seen it too. And it pleased him.

"Shall we head over to the cross now, your Highness?" asked the handler, being way too brave.

"No," replied Kendall, "Continue to restrain him here, after you teach him some manners."

The handler nodded, clearly disappointed.

"Oh and," added Kendall. "Fix that mouth of yours, will you, boy?"

For the first time since his capture, Logan grinned.

* * *

Logan knew that it was not possible for him to escape, not anymore. Since he had met the prince, Kendall kept him chained. Two guards at the door at all times, the Prince's orders. Don't let him off the chain, the Prince's orders. No one knew his identity, no one could help him. Even if he could do it all himself, he couldn't risk it.

He knew how the Diarians thought of his people, and how his people thought of the Diarians. They do not go well together, was all Logan had to say. He gathered all his good intention and suffered from it. But the Prince, Kendall – he had been unbearable.

On his knees, Logan heard the conversation from the two guards outside his room. "He doesn't look much like a pet, I mean, look at him." Said the taller of the two men.

"He's a bed slave from Laskan, didn't you heard?" said the other.

"You think the Prince fucks him?" the taller asked, doubting his own words.

"More like the other way around." Chuckled the other.

"Pretty sweet orders for a bed slave. Think what that'd be like, getting a leg over the Prince." The two men looked at each other and laughed, their rough voices echoing around the atmosphere.

'_I imagine it would be a lot like lying down with elapid snakes, close guess?' _Logan thought to himself.

Sighing silently, he drank his water and lay his body down the cushion and slept.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **hi. wifi was down yesterday so I was not able to update this :3 but here it is now, enjoy and review!

* * *

He woke. And being dragged up until he was on his feet by two guards that wasn't from last night.

Logan was greeted by the Prince, he and himself was alone, not counting the guards holding tightly by the arms. Kendall told him that he does not know what to do with him, Logan gave him no answer.

When he refused to crawl, fists drove to his jaw again, again, and again. "You were insolent this afternoon too. This habit can be cured." Kendall's gaze tracked Logan's body, "With horse whips." Logan's garments are loosened, barring his torso. "You have a scar." Kendall stated.

He had two, but one was only visible.

"I – served the army."

"So Vestor sends a common soldier as a gift to a prince. Is that it?"

"Vestor wished to humiliate me. I suppose I-" Logan gritted his teeth, "angered him." Logan chose his words carefully. "If he had another purpose, I don't know what it is."

Kendall straightened up, expression hard, "He disposes his waste by sending it at my feet. Is that suppose to please me?"

"Would anything?" came a voice from a distance.

Kendall turned, "Uncle," he said, "I didn't hear you come in."

The Regent observed Logan briefly up and down, "The slave has a bruising."

"He's mine," said Kendall, "I can do what I like with him."

The Regent remained his posture, "Not if you intend to beat him to death. This is a gift of King Vestor, treat it with value."

* * *

He had time to bath, the same place where he had his first. Everything on him was released and unchained, leaving him free to do whatever he wants. Well, not really.

Logan walked himself in the water, it was so hot, yet it felt good. The heat loosened his muscles, melting the ache down his back. He relaxed himself with his thoughts drifting a little.

They found their way to Kendall. _You have a scar. _Logan's fingered lingered across the pale scar. It was Kendall's older brother who had gave him the scar, years ago, during the battle in Ruris. Logan could remember him, dark golden hair with him lying on the dirt, full of blood, and almost unrecognizable.

He pushed the thought aside. Only followed by other darker ones.

After a moment, a server called out, catching Logan's attention. "Time's up." He nodded, pushing himself up from the water with too much force, his weakness away. The sudden action made the server's eyes widen, he watched as Logan ran a hand through his hair, taking a step forward. He took a step back.

"Restrain him," said he, a little loud.

"You don't have to-"

Logan grunted when heavy solid dock closed around his wrists, balancing himself before huffing a little. _Just one single move. _

"I wasn't planning to fight." Said Logan defensively.

The server released a breathe, "I'm glad."

After being dried, oil was being smudged on him again. This time they were having paint on Logan's body, but the server stopped them, "No point, the Prince does not like it – no – jewelry – that's enough."

The room was full of people, courtiers, slaves, pets, and servants. Wine and refreshments, sweetmeats and candied fruit. In the middle of the room, series of iron links shaped circular set onto the floor. Logan's stomach twisted. Other than flavored food, there were also ladies and young lords dressed in bright colored silk and body wearing more gold than Logan had ever seen. Jewelries so bright and real, it shines around the room, flashing Logan's eyes and almost blinding him. Logan had to make himself believe, this was Diare. Alluring, sensuous, honeyed wealth and poisonous. Somewhere he had never thought he would be.

He was relieved when he was not sent directly to the ring, instead beside Kendall. Logan could tell he had been drinking, nothing in his manner today showed. He looked relaxed, unconcerned and fresh from the shower. Kendall's eyes were shinning, green, innocent as grass, for once, Logan could see something real in them, and he had looked at him like that from the moment he laid eyes on him.

Kendall turned his body, "You have a cut on your lip. Someone hit you." _It was you,_Logan answered in his head. "Oh that's right, I was there. Does it hurt?"

The Prince was worse sober, and talking way too much. "We must have conversation, I have asked you your health. I recall our night together, have you been thinking about me this morning?"

Logan had no good answers to that. His mind bought him back to the bath, the heat of the water and, _you have a scar._

"My uncle and I had a talk, something left me curious. You did something to make Vestor hate you, what was it?"

"Hate me?" repeated Logan.

"Did you think he sent you to me out of love? What did you do to him? Beaten him? Fucked his mistress – um – Camille? Maybe," said Kendall, talking _way_too much by now, "You deviated after he fucked you."

That made Logan sick, he had drawn back his body, chain pulled. "_No._"

Then a group of courtiers made their approach to Kendall, "It's so rare to see you at these entertainments, you Highness." Said Jo.

"I was in the mood to enjoy myself. I needed a break, don't I?" replied Kendall.

"Indeed so," Jo walked around Logan as she spoke, "Your new pet is quite a stur, your Highness. Nothing like the others that Vestor gifted to your uncle. I wonder if your Highness ever had the chance to see them? They're more…"

"I've seen them."

Jo hummed, "You don't sound pleased."

"No, I'm overjoyed." finished Kendall, wanting no more of this conversation.

It was then Logan realized that something was happening in the ring. Two male pets had entered. One was brunet, staring the other with toxic grey eyes. The other, who Logan's eyes naturally gravitated, was blond, eyes pinned on the ground. But Logan could still see that his eyes were brown.

They were being stripped of their clothes. Somewhere during the process, Kendall said something, "Sweetmeat?" he held the editable delicately with his thumb and forefinger. Just far enough that Logan would have to rise up onto his knees in order to take it from Kendall's fingertips. Logan stirred and jerked his head back.

"Stubborn," Kendall said simply, bringing the meat to his own lips instead.

Logan turned his attention back to the ring.

_Rape._The blond pet struggled as the other held him in place, strong and buffed arms pinning the weak ones. He watched with horrified eyes as the strong one forced the blond's thighs open, the other cries out and trying desperately to throw him off.

Logan's eyes swung away, but it was worse looking at the audience. Jo's pet sat with flushed cheeks, her mistress's fingers occupied in her body, to the left, a male pet was unlacing his master's pants, reaching what he found there. He was better off closing his eyes.

In Laskan, public performances were rare, and the charms of a slave are to be enjoyed in private. The court did not gather to watch two pets fucking, raping.

When they were done, the audience clapped. Kendall remained his position, eyes watching lazily. The blond was helped from the ring to his master, who was concerned after a show of his interest and gifted him with a long diamond earring. Earrings represent their profile, their place in the court, the brighter it shines, the more expensive you are. Simple as that.

"You kept troubling me to put my pet in the ring," said Kendall to Jo and other courtiers, "I thought it's time I fulfill your pleas."

With that Logan was released from his bonds, stripped to his garments. He shook his head slightly as his felt a little dizzy. Kendall had threatened to have him raped, and he was going to do it.

This was no way to treat a pet, back in Laskan. Logan felt angry and he was not restrained. He flexed his fingers, looking at his opponent. Who was passing over his body. Logan would not be raped in front of a room filled with courtiers, no, not in front of the people of his nation's enemy.

It began, with cheers. On their knees, with their hands entwined around another. Logan was not a strong fighter, but he had been trained with force since a young age. His father did not give pity to him. As he grew older, he knew that it was not optional. He had to fight, fight for his nation, and fight for his own life.

Logan's opponent was a mountain, he had his thumb on his throat, his heavy weight on him. He took his first advantage and kicked his body away, throwing himself on the man's body and felt him tremble.

He was aware that his power had weakened, after days since his capture he had been on his knees, being dragged from places to places and never had a chance to train. He was no long fighting at his best, but he inhaled it all away.

The man's warm breath was against his neck. Logan was on his back, pinned and struggling with no avail. His thighs were forced apart, and he flung his body with all his strength, taking the man's body with him. Their position shifted slightly, enough for him to free his arm – Logan drove his fist to the man's chin, stunned, his opponent collapsed, panting across him.

"Magnificent!" a smooth voice called, one that Logan does not recognized.

The audience cheered in a reasonable volume as Logan as bought beside Kendall again. "What a victory! Your slave deserves a reward, let me bring him one."

Kendall blinked, "A reward." He said flatly.

"A fight like that – amazing – allow me to gift him a pet." Said the man with a younger slave – around 12, 13, maybe. "I think – we are all eager to see him perform again."

Logan's gaze turned to the pet. _Perform,_ he felt sick.

"I am not raping a child."

"I'm not a child." The young pet objected.

Kendall's expression flickered, "Why not?"

Logan spoke to him with the language of Laskan, "_Why not? I take no pleasure hurting the weaker."_For a moment Kendall stayed silent.

He watched Kendall stood up eventually, strode past and ignoring him completely.

"I'm going for a ride. Ready my horse." He said to one of his servants.

Pass the leaving crowd, Camille unexpectedly came over to Logan. "You look stunned, you will get used to it. The Prince has a reputation for leaving pets unsatisfied." And then she was gone.

Nothing happened on the second day, or the third, or the fourth, or the fifth.

But on the sixth day, he was told that he would be serving in the baths.

"Serve?" repeated Logan. He received no answer, instead being pushed to the room, where Kendall was against the tiled wall, wearing a familiar cooled expression.

"So, my slave is bashful in the arena. Don't you fuck boys back in Laskan?"

Logan set his jaw, "We're cultured. Before I rape anyone I check to see if their voice has broken," he said.

Kendall smiled, stunning Logan in the slightest.

"Did you fight?"

He knew where Kendall was taking about, Mealo. The place where he killed his brother. "Yes." Logan answered truthfully.

"How many did you kill?"

"I don't know."

"Lost count?"

Logan didn't react, and Kendall didn't react to him not reacting. "Have you waited six days to talk to me about the fight?"

Kendall positioned himself off the wall, "My uncle is gone, ridden to somewhere. I have waited six days so that you and I could talk, alone."

"With your men guarding the doors," stated Logan.

"Don't worry, I won't hit you unless I have a good reason to."

"Did I seem worried?" replied Logan after a while of silence.

"You liked knocking that man down, didn't you?"

"Do you have something in mind?"

"Don't be silly, I'm here to bathe. Come here." Said Kendall, coolly. Logan found himself obeying, he didn't like the fact that he was overpowered by the Prince.

"Strip."

Logan stripped.

"Undress me."

He blinked and undressed Kendall.

Logan learned that Kendall was lighter built then him, but more well shaped. His body wasn't boyish, but it was beautifully proportioned, his skin smooth and unmarked.

"Wash me."

He did.

All of a sudden, Kendall said something, not louder than his speaking voice. "Get him out of here."

Logan guessed he had done something wrong. The door swung opened, and almost immediately Logan felt harsh hands on him, roughly pulling him backwards.

"Bring him to the cross."

One of the soldier hesitated, "Your Highness, may I remind you that the Regent -"

"Do as I instructed."

"Yes, you Highness."


End file.
